


The Measure of a Man

by BirdOfHermes



Series: Fuck Subtle [5]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Banter, Chemistry, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Meet-Cute, No Plot/Plotless, POV First Person, Romantic Fluff, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, Suits, The thirst is real, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdOfHermes/pseuds/BirdOfHermes
Summary: Harry Dresden needs a new suit, so he heads to a suit store and bumps into a quirky salesgirl who just happens to be well-suited for him. Post Dead Beat.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Original Female Character, Harry Dresden/Reader
Series: Fuck Subtle [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025994
Comments: 21
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's random, but this was inspired by the joke in "I Was a Teenage Bigfoot" about Harry's suit not being cheap. I used to sell men's suits and so I thought it would be fun to write this humorous bit of fluff about fitting a man who is freaking 6'9'' into a custom suit. Plus, who doesn't need some cute banter during these awful times? I know I do.

_The man is tall, mad, mean, and good-looking_

_And he's got me in his eye_

_When he looks at me, I go weak at the knees_

_Got me going like no other guy_

_'Cause he's my big, bad handsome man, yeah_

_He's got me in the palm of his hand_

_He's a devil divine_

_I'm so glad that he's mine_

_'Cause he's my big, bad handsome man_

_-"Big Bad Handsome Man" by Imelda May_

I’d seen a lot of weird shit working in Perino’s Suit Store, but this guy took the cake.

I’d been refolding a men’s dress shirt to put back on the shelf when I heard the door’s little bell tinkle to announce the arrival of another bastard—excuse me, _customer_ —and did what every retail worker did: switch to salesperson mode. Which, if you’ve never worked retail, is about as authentic and real as Donald Trump’s fucking toupee.

“Welcome to Perino’s,” I said as I pivoted on a heel, sliding my cute, bubbly smile into place. “How can I—”

My smile transitioned into open-mouthed gawking as my eyes beheld the customer. He was the tallest man I’d ever met. Period. And that’s saying something since Perino’s specialized in big and tall suits. The man standing before me was a whopping six-foot-nine at least. He had dark hair and eyes, a lantern jaw, insanely long limbs, and a rather interesting sense of style. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, black boots, and an incredibly out of place long, mantled leather coat. The coat swept behind him as the door shut like Batman’s cape, for God’s sake. He had silver rings on his fingers as well as a silver bracelet and a matching necklace with what appeared to be a pentacle. Despite his completely bizarre look, he gave me a warm smile in greeting.

“Hi,” he said.

“Get out,” I replied.

Up went his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Out,” I said, pointing at the door. “Because there is no way I am climbing a ladder to measure you. How dare you, sir.”

He blinked at me and then started to laugh heartily. I smirked in victory and then continued. “Let me guess. Suit and dress shirts?”

“Yeah,” he said, still chuckling under his breath. “Ah, sorry in advance about the ladder.”

“So am I,” I lamented as I waved him over towards the counter where I kept the measuring tape. “If I fall off, you’d damn well better catch me, Stilts.”

“Scout’s honor, ma’am,” he said seriously, giving me the salute.

I brandished a hand at the coat. “Go on, strip.”

His eyebrows went up again. I snorted. “Loosen up, Stretch. I mean lose the El Dorado coat. I can’t properly measure you in it.”

“Ah, sorry.” He slid out of it and I draped it across the nearby table, spreading it out so the leather wouldn’t wrinkle. Wow, real leather, too. He didn’t strike me as rich, but he had good taste even for a weirdo.

“Have you ever been measured for a suit before?” I asked as I grabbed the mini-ladder I used to reach the top shelf for overstock.

“It’s been a while,” Talking Skyscraper Man said. “I found out the moths got to my last one so it’s time to get it replaced, lest I want to show everyone my underwear.”

“Fair enough. We’ll do all the basic measurements and then we can get more specific if we need to. I can already say for certain we don’t have your coat size, but we might luck out with your slacks. Most of the slacks come too long and the tailor does the hems to fit. The shirt will probably have to be custom to fit these condor arms you got going on too.”

He nodded. “I am at your service. Whatever you need me to do.”

“Be still for now. You ticklish?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good, I have to touch you a lot.”

He paused and then gave me a slow smile. “Oh, drat. I wasn’t expecting that.”

I rolled my eyes, smothering a laugh under my breath. “Smartass.”

“Hey, you started it.”

“Uh-huh.” I walked behind him and got on the stool. I placed the end of the tape measure between his shoulder blades and then ran it across his shoulder, down his bicep to his elbow, and then to his wrist. I grabbed my suit measurement notepad and pressed it to his back, scribbling his arm length with a pen. Then I scowled and poked him in the side. He let out a little yelp. It was both adorable and hilarious.

“Stop slouching.”

“Were you a nun in a past life?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m a deadshot with a yardstick,” I threatened as I looped the tape up over his head and then pulled it in at the base of his throat for the neck measurement, and then down over him for his arm and chest measurement. “So be on your best behavior, scarecrow.”

“Harry,” he said mildly. “Since we’re about to be on, uh, intimate terms.”

I snorted as I raised his arms out in the T-pose. “You should be so lucky, mister.”

I heard another chuckle rumble through him. It was a nice, deep sound from up close. I wouldn’t mind making him laugh more. I measured his waist, then his hips, and wrists. He didn’t wear cologne, but he did have a nice mild aftershave. The slouching was probably habitual from his absurd height and not wanting to get clocked by stop signs and passing planes. He was lithe, but not bony or stringy, which was interesting. It made it hard for me to figure out what he did for a living. He also wore a black glove on his left hand, which I noted didn’t move very much, so it might’ve been to hide an injury. His watch was modest, nothing fancy, and he’d gotten a haircut recently, just a normal taper cut. All in all, my gut said he worked in something kind of blue collar, but not quite rugged. He had scars dotted over his skin in various depths, some small, some more serious. Hell, he had the build of a bare knuckle boxer if I was being honest, but the lack of broken nose or cauliflower ear or slowed speech disproved the theory.

I’d gotten used to measuring men dozens of times a week, so I was also no stranger to the wandering eye and unfortunately a few involuntary boners from being touched by a pretty girl. Surprisingly, Harry the Ent did not stare at me or any of my body parts as I moved him around gathering what I needed. That also meant he had manners despite the smart mouth. Very interesting.

“Oh, good,” I said once I’d finished. “Looks like your waist size and outseam should mean I get to skip my favorite part.”

“Which is?”

“Any idea what an inseam is?”

Harry winced. “Oh, wow, yeah. That’s got to be hell on you, huh?”

“Like you would not believe. I’ve had a couple jackasses insist that I measure it because they get a power trip off of it.”

He scowled. “Any of their addresses lying around? I deliver door-to-door ass-kickings for guys like that.”

I smiled. “Sweet of you to offer, but trust me, I get them back. I just ‘accidentally’ stab them when pinning up their hems.”

“Atta girl.”

“Alright, Harry, what color suit?”

“No idea,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “What are the fellas wearing these days?”

“Hmm, I guess it depends on what you’re using it for. My gut says you’re not a cop, a government worker, a security guard, or a mortician, which rules out a black suit. You don’t want a brown suit; you’re not a country bumpkin or a mob boss. You’re not in Cali, so you don’t need a khaki suit. That leaves blue and grey.”

I cocked my head from one side to the other, squinting up at him. “I think blue would look better with your complexion than grey. Brown hair and eyes look good with blue, and it would bring less attention to you. You’d look great in grey, but blue is also a bit more intimidating.”

He gave me a mysterious smile. “And just what is it that you think I do for a living?”

I crossed my arms. “Conduct electricity. I assume you’re a human telephone pole.”

He chuckled again. “Close enough. Sure, let’s go with blue.”

“Great.” I brought him the swatch book and handed it over. He flipped through it until he found a shade of navy he liked. I retrieved the matching pair of pants in that shade and shooed him into the fitting room while I went in search of a dress shirt. “What about shirts, Stretch Armstrong?”

“Anything you like,” he called back. “I trust you.”

“Salmon pink it is.”

I heard him chuckle again. “Do they pay you by the one liner?”

“Yep. I get extra commission for sassing clients.”

“Congrats. You’re earning your money’s worth.”

“Thanks, I try.”

The door opened and he walked out towards the three tiered mirror, giving me a severe look. “Stop being mean to me or I’m going to fall in love with you.”

I smothered another laugh in my throat as I came to check the fit of the slacks. Fun fact: Harry the Ent had a nice ass. Bonus. “Sorry. I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“I’m just a girl who can’t say no.”

That got a full bodied laugh out of me. Harry grinned, quite pleased by it. I made chalk marks for the hem and waist and wrote them on the tailor’s measurements card. Then I held out a shirt each for him: one light blue with navy stripes and the other white with grey windowpane designs. He picked the light blue.

“Now, shoes,” I said, glancing at his socked feet. “Tell me you at least have one decent pair.”

“I can totally do that,” he said. “And I’d be lying through my teeth.”

I shook my head. “You’re either single or have the worst girlfriend on God’s green Earth.”

“The former, I’m afraid. I guess I’d better shell out for shoes too.”

“What size are you?”

“Fourteen.”

I stared at him, then back down at his feet, and then suppressed the first ten responses that came to mind. “Okay.”

I walked away and heard the smartass go, “Oh, don’t you dare look at me like that and run. You’ve got to give me at least one comment, come on!”

“Nope,” I said as I headed towards the wall of shoes and grabbed a ladder to get to the top sizes.

“Chicken.”

“Bawk,” I deadpanned as I returned with two boxes. “I’m not touching that with a 39 ½ foot pole.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Well, I’m flattered, but I think you’re overstating things a bit.”

I shoved the boxes into his arms as he laughed, which was highly infectious. I fought to control my face as I tried to maintain at least an ounce of professionalism. “Black is traditional, but brown is more modern to go with a navy suit, just for your information. Cap-toes are more stylish than wing tips and you didn’t strike me as a tassel kind of guy.”

“Yeah, they chafe my nipples something awful.” I smacked him in the arm before I could stop myself and he chuckled again. “Do they scuff easily?”

“No, these are Cole Haans, so they’re pretty durable. If you’re worried about less marks showing, get the brown.”

He saluted me. “You’re the boss. Brown it is.”

“Good. Wear a brown belt with it if you want to be one of the cool kids.” I brandished the tailor’s card. “We’ll special order your coat and shirt and then you’ll come back in for a fitting. Shouldn’t take more than a week to ship here, and we can get it tailored in about three days, then you can come in for the final fitting and approval.”

“Perfect. What do I owe you for them?”

“You’re in luck. We don’t collect payment until the coat and shirt arrive to make sure the material’s satisfactory before the tailor works on it for you. You can go ahead and change and I’ll get you a price quote on the ensemble.”

“Got it.” I headed to the front counter and rang up the estimate while he changed. He loped around the corner a moment later and retrieved his leather coat, sliding it on.

“I assume you won’t be needing ties?”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who wears ties for a living?”

“Dunno. You do have this ‘wholesome gigolo’ thing going on.”

Harry outright laughed that time and I felt warm inside from the sound. It was somehow the exact middle between sexy and adorable. And, if I was being honest, so was he.

“Your bill,” I said, offering up the receipt. Then I pointed to the contact card. “Need your personal info and we’ll give you a call when the items arrive.”

He filled it out in sloppy but mostly legible handwriting. “Now go haunt someone else, scarecrow.”

He bowed at the waist. “Your wish is my command.” 

Harry checked his watch. “Before I go, any chance you like burgers?”

I blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Yeah, who doesn’t?”

“Good. Got a hankering. Don’t suppose I’d offend you if I got you lunch for putting up with me?”

It was great he wasn’t telepathic. The internal screaming would have scared him off for sure. I played it cool and just shrugged. “It would be the least offensive thing you’ve put me through today.”

He gave me that bright smile again. “Kuma’s sound good?”

I didn’t have to answer; my stomach roared like Godzilla. I blushed as it just made him smile wider. “Yeah, that’ll work. I’m partial to the Metallica burger and a Coke.”

He winked. “As you wish.”

Harry left and returned with burgers from Kuma’s Corner. Which were insanely good and not entirely cheap, which was flattering considering the guy had just met me. And he’d had excellent timing; I was starving and would’ve been eating a freaking Lean Cuisine since I’d forgotten to cook this weekend.

“Thanks,” I said after he passed me the bag and a Coke. Then I softened my tone and gave him a genuine smile. “Really, I mean it. This was sweet of you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “I have literally never had this much fun shopping in my life. It was the least I could do.”

He paused, his expression turning sly as he leaned over and placed an elbow on the counter. That rakish grin reappeared and his brown eyes glittered with mischief, which made my heart jump like a jackrabbit on a trampoline. “Now, is there any chance you’re going to tell me what you thought about my shoe size?”

Tall, good manners, nice ass, and a sense of humor. I had to get him out of here before I fucked him on top of the tie rack. I batted my lashes. “Not on a first date, I’m afraid.”

I leaned in a bit just to tease him. “But maybe you’ll get lucky when you come back for the fitting, big guy.”

“I’ll hold you to that, gorgeous.” He straightened, waved, and then he was gone.

God bless the weird ones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns for his second fitting and shenanigans ensue.

I pretended that I wasn’t positively giddy when I came in the next week and Harry’s special order jacket and shirt had come in. I knew it sounded a little pathetic, but it was rare that I got a halfway decent guy into the store. Too many of them had towering egos or were rude creepers. I took the small victories where I could get them.

I called the number he’d left at nine o’clock after I finished my store opening duties and listened as the phone rang, chewing my bottom lip. After a bit, the line clicked and a sleepy growl poured itself into my right ear. “Hello?”

Oh, fuck me. Harry’s rolling baritone was nice enough in his normal speaking voice. Sleepy Harry was an aphrodisiac. I had to take a breath before I responded. “Hi, yes, Mr. Dresden, this is your suit saleswoman from Perino’s.”

I heard a rustling noise, like maybe he’d rolled over or sat up in bed. My mind decided to picture him shirtless in a pair of dark boxers and my eyes almost rolled back in my skull. _Focus, woman._ “Oh, hey. I take it the jacket and the shirt arrived?”

“No, I just missed the dulcet tones of your voice,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled. “I knew you did. I could put James Earl Jones to shame.”

I snorted. “Easily. When do you think you can make it in for a fitting?”

“Let me see…I have an appointment in the afternoon, but I can head to you afterward. Does three o’clock work for you?”

“Sure, I’ll fit you in.”

He made a little pleased rumbling noise. “I’m sure you will.”

I strangled a laugh. “Sir, I would thank you to please refrain from using inappropriate language with me.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” he sniffed. “You added all that innuendo in there yourself.”

“Uh-huh. See you at three, scarecrow.”

“Can’t wait. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up. I may have also surreptitiously checked my hair and makeup in the mirror. Sue me.

Harry had actually picked the perfect time for his appointment; the store typically had a bit of a rush between noon and two o'clock as guys who had a lunch hour would browse or come in for a fitting and then head back to pick their items up later. Our shop was small, so weekdays were just one associate plus the tailor and then two or three salesmen on weekends. It was one of the reasons I liked working here; no micro-managing and no overcrowding. As long as we hit our sales goal, the owner left us be for the most part.

Around three o’clock, the bell tinkled and I tried not to seem eager as I turned from where I’d been rearranging the ties. Harry wore a black t-shirt with the Star Wars logo in yellow, blue jeans, and boots, the same giant leather duster settling around him. He tucked his hands in his pockets and gave me that soul-melting smile. “Hiya.”

“Hey.” I tilted my head slightly. “So in addition to all your other quirks, you’re also a big geek, huh?”

“Guilty as charged. Is that going to be a problem?”

“As long as we agree that Han shot first, no, it’s not.”

Harry grinned. “Damn right he did. How’ve you been?”

I shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

“Ah. So sassing everyone and everything in sight, then?”

I flashed him a sarcastic smile. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not in this dojo.” 

“Good.” I grabbed the ensemble from the portable rack and handed it to him. “Off you go, Stilts.”

I had figured that working here for as long as I had would make me immune to the “women go crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man’ cliché by now. The customers weren’t always the nicest, but I’d had some good looking fellows come in to be fitted for suits. Maybe I’d just underestimated the effect it would have on me to see a guy I actually liked in a custom suit.

Harry stepped out of the fitting room in the suit and dress shirt. Picture that reveal scene from _Miss Congeniality_ but with a guy instead of Sandra Bullock.

Sweet buttery Jesus smeared on toast, did he look fantastic in a suit. I knew it was my job to look him over, but I definitely wasn’t doing it for professional reasons. The rich blue hue of the suit flattered his frame and brought out the brown in his hair and eyes just as I’d said that it would, only far better than I’d imagined. It was true that black was slimming, but just the right navy could do the same thing, giving a streamlined, attractive appearance to the suit wearer. And Harry had that in spades.

Foolishly, I didn’t fix my stupefied expression in time; Harry caught me staring and flicked a slick smile in my direction. “Do we like?”

I cleared my throat and brought him the shoes I’d set aside with the order. “You’ve upgraded from wholesome gigolo to high end escort.”

Harry chuckled as he slipped on the shoes. “Perfect, that’s just what I was going for.”

He held still while I inspected the fit of the suit. Naturally, the jacket, slacks, and shirt were a slim fit so he wouldn’t have extra fabric hanging off of him. His shoulders were actually rather broad for a wiry fellow, but not in a way indicating that he lifted weights; just a natural thing from whatever he did for a living. I made sure there wasn’t a gap along his spine when the buttons were done up and that the jacket fell naturally against the small of his back. I also checked the fit around his waist and hips, which, let me tell you, had me struggling to remain professional. He wasn’t a male model, but he did have a six pack, and I found myself wanting to cop a feel more than once. _Down, girl._

It became that much harder to focus once I stepped around to face him and check his shoulders and sleeves. I marked the sleeves to be lengthened half an inch. Then I got up on my tiptoes to fix his collar, which brought both of our bodies dangerously close to one another. I caught a giggle fit before I could stop it, which made Harry lift an eyebrow.

“Problem?” he asked.

“You’re wearing cologne,” I tittered.

He blushed. Goodness me, was he ever cute. “I always wear cologne.”

“Sure, you do.”

Harry heaved a sigh. “Alright, alright, you caught me. Happy?”

“You’re adorable,” I told him sincerely. “Well, you were already adorable, but now you’re fashionable too. I appreciate your attempts to seduce me.”

“Attempts?” he mused. “You mean it’s not working?”

I gave him a sly look. “Do you think it is?”

He gave me the look right back. “I think you’re one quip away from proposing to me.”

I let out a coy laugh. “Five minutes in a suit and now you think you’re Casanova.”

Harry leaned in just a bit, enough to put him a little more level with me. It was extremely effective. If I had pearls, I’d be clutching them right now. “Maybe I was all along and I just knew how to play it to get you to like me.”

“Who says I like you?”

He offered a small shrug. “Call it a hunch.”

I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead as dramatically as possible. “Yes, you’re right, I’m liable to swoon at any moment.”

“Keep laughing and I’ll put on a tie and cufflinks,” he threatened. “You’ll be done for. Completely head-over-heels in love.”

I grinned and waggled my eyebrows. “Talk dirty to me.”

Harry bent down and stage-whispered, “I’ll even throw on a… _pocket square._ ”

I pretended to gasp, clutching my chest as if he’d wounded me. “No, it’s too much. I’m yours entirely.”

“Mission accomplished. We’ll get married in a little church upstate. How many kids do you want?”

I laughed then. “God, if they all turn out your size, none. I can’t imagine trying to discipline you if you were this tall as a teenager. I’d definitely need a yardstick.”

“Had a lot of thoughts about disciplining me, have you?”

I crossed my arms. “I imagine it’s the only way to shut you up.”

He made a rather purposeful glance down at my lips. “Oh, there are other ways.”

Hot. _Damn._

I could match swords with the best of them, but Harry Dresden had completely outwitted me, possibly for the first time in my life.

It took me a second to recover. That line had been smoother than a jar of peanut butter. “I’m sure there are. However, I am not at liberty to discuss them with you on date number two. I have a reputation to uphold. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Mm,” he said as he straightened up. “Isn’t that a shame?”

He headed into the fitting room to change clothes. Great. That meant he didn’t see me stumble weak-kneed towards the counter, blushing up a storm. I managed to regain my composure by the time he returned and paid for the items in cash, which was also interesting. Most guys used credit cards.

“You really are a gigolo,” I chuckled as I counted out the bills and then stashed them in the register, handing him the change.

“Not anymore,” Harry said. “I’m a high end escort now, remember? All thanks to you.”

“Ah, yes, my mistake.” I handed him the receipt. “The suit should be ready in about three days. Make sure to bundle up when you head for your usual street corner. It’s nippy out.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he said as he scooped up the brown paper bag containing his shoes. Then he cleared his throat. “So, uh, will you be here when I come to pick up the suit?”

I couldn’t resist a smirk. “Yes. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” he said, feigning innocence.

I swallowed another giggle. “Right. Take it easy, Stilts.”

Harry winked at me. “See you around, gorgeous.”

He left. Once I was sure he was gone, I grabbed the phone and dialed up my coworker. “Carla, can you switch shifts with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flirty Harry is the best Harry. I regret nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry comes in for his final fitting. But is that the last he'll see of the quirky suit salesgirl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a shameless ho for Harry Dresden and I regret nothing.

I liked to think that I was a mature adult woman with perfect rationality and control over her thoughts, emotions, and decision-making processes.

Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.

Which was why I had a filthy dream about Mr. Dresden that night.

Like most dreams, it didn’t start at the beginning. I became aware of myself lying in my bed in just a bra and panties, a big hand sliding up my belly. My eyes adjusted to the darkness to find Harry standing at the foot of my bed, hovering over me while wearing his impeccable suit, only the dress shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his bare chest rippling with lean muscle. Holy shit.

The smile on those soft lips made me break out in goosebumps completely, head to toe, as it somehow promised me things I’d been dying to experience with him firsthand. His hand brushed between my breasts and then up my throat, my chin. He ran his thumb over my lower lip, his voice hushed and dripping with arousal.

“I’m curious,” he purred as he stroked the shape of my lips. “Just how exactly did you plan on shutting me up, gorgeous?”

“Come closer and find out,” I whispered back. Then I pulled his thumb inside my mouth.

He let out a low growl and rushed up to meet me, his huge frame pinning my trembling body down into the mattress. He kissed me, sliding his hand into my hair and tugging my head back. His tongue glided up over my lower lip and I let him in, kissing him voraciously. I ran my hands up his abdomen and chest, sliding them around to feel the powerful muscles of his back, unable to help groaning and gyrating up against him. He caught my wriggling hips and raked my panties off, pushing my knees apart.

He broke from my lips, grinning hungrily down at me. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” I panted out.

Harry hooked his hands on the underside of my knees. “You’ll put that smart mouth of yours to good use screaming my name.”

I shuddered and bit my lower lip in anticipation. “As long as you give me something to scream about.”

Those dark eyes glittered dangerously at me. “I’ll do my best.”

He sank down towards the space just under my belly button. His lips made contact with my bare skin and I bit my bottom lip to strangle a cry. He took his damn time teasing me, spreading kisses across the apex of my thighs, the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin leaving beard burn behind where he’d already passed. I curled my fingers in the suit jacket in an attempt to find purchase as he finally allowed his warm breath to pass over my clit. He pressed a light kiss over it that made my spine arch as it sparked little trembling bolts of pleasure up my body. He parted his lips and brought the aching knot inside the heat and wetness of his mouth. I moaned and balled my hands into fists, tugging him closer. His tongue flicked up and across over the throbbing spot next, still using that light touch to make me frantic with want, his hands holding my knees in place so I couldn’t move much. He kept going, alternating those soft licks and kisses, until I was a moaning, panting mess.

“God, get on with it,” I groaned, half-angry, half-desperate for more stimulation.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he rumbled back with that same sly amusement in his tone.

“Getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we?”

Harry chuckled. “Oh, we’ll get there soon enough.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Mm, is that a challenge?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say we’re oh-for-four with boyfriends attempting it,” I told him. “Try not to oversell yourself.”

Harry clucked his tongue as he casually lifted both of my thighs onto those broad shoulders. “Well, let’s see if the fifth time’s the charm, shall we?”

Mr. Dresden proceeded to put that Silvertongue to good use.

I hadn’t been lying. Past boyfriends didn’t have the talent for it, not that it was the reason they were past boyfriends, but it had been exasperating that none of them seemed interested in my pleasure, only their own. They didn’t understand that the sex was better with both partners engaged and feeding into each other’s energy, increasing the pleasure and excitement.

Something Harry Dresden understood perfectly.

The very second he slipped his tongue inside me, I knew I was done for. The man knew what the hell he was doing. The first slow, purposeful thrust of this tongue had me calling out for God and all his angels. My legs clamped down over his shoulders immediately as a tidal wave of pleasure swallowed me whole. He withdrew and traced the outer edges of me, his lips applying just the slightest pressure, and then he passed over my clit again. Over and over, he took me that way with his mouth. I scrambled to grip the sheets underneath me, my head thrown back, dizzy and gasping as he pushed me to my limits, those big hands massaging my thighs slowly in time with his ministrations. For the first time in my life, I was putty in a man’s hands. He owned me body and soul and I didn’t give a damn; I was into it.

I shivered as he tilted his head enough to bite the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, licking to soothe the mark it left behind, his voice octaves deeper, which seemed impossible. “I thought we had an agreement, sweetheart.”

“W-What?” I mumbled in between frantic gulps of air, prying my eyes open.

He bit my other thigh in the same spot, smirking. “I haven’t heard my name yet.”

I blushed ridiculously hard. “Ego, thy name is Harry.”

“Cute,” he said, squeezing my legs teasingly. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“What’s the matter? Can’t get your motor running unless I say it?”

“No,” he said quietly, his gaze pinning me as much as his upper body had my lower body. “I’ve been dying to hear you moan it since the day I walked in your store.”

“Fuck,” I moaned raggedly, hot all over from that admission. “God, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he murmured.

I squirmed in his grip as my body pulsed with need. “Just don’t.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered in between soft, slow kisses just above my spot. “I wanted to fuck you on the counter the second I saw you.”

I bit my bottom lip. “Harry, please.”

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Good girl.”

My toes curled. “Fuck, Harry, please.”

“I know you wanted the same thing, you know,” he rumbled as he slid between my thighs again. His tongue returned to me only faster this time, pushing deeper, his pace perfectly in tuned with what I wanted. “You wanted me to push up your skirt and take you right there, didn’t you, gorgeous?”

“Harry!”

“Come,” he ordered. “Come, sweetheart. Right now, just for me.”

I tensed all over, helpless, unable to stop it from happening, and I didn’t really want to in the first place. I bucked up into the heat and pressure of his mouth, flying apart as I reached my peak. Pleasure like hot honey doused my naked skin all over, saturating me completely, until I was a trembling pile of bones on the bed.

God. I’d never known anything could feel so good.

I couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but eventually I returned to awareness as the mattress shifted under Harry’s weight. I blinked away the heavenly curtain of the afterglow to see him on his knees above me, his smirk sinful as he licked his lips clean.

“You were right,” I croaked. “Fifth time’s the charm.”

Harry grinned. “That might be the hottest thing you’ve said yet.”

I laughed hoarsely. “Oh, the ego.”

I gripped the lapels of the suit and dragged him closer, letting my own smirk slide over my lips. “Now, about that shoe size…”

Harry gave me an innocent look. “What about it?”

I batted my lashes as I undid his belt. “Am I to assume everything is…proportional?”

“Find out for yourself.”

I unbuckled the suit pants and slid the zipper down, eager to unwrap the present waiting beneath.

Which is why my alarm clock went off.

My eyes opened on the ceiling fan instead of Harry Dresden. I lay there motionless for several seconds, listening to “Hitori no Yoru” play in the crisp morning air, too angry to even react to being literally cockblocked by my goddamn phone.

“It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

* * *

“Hey, I thought you were going home,” I said as I passed by Carla to give the tailor one of the measurement cards.

“Ha!” the short Hispanic girl said, her brown eyes on the front door. “And miss seeing your boyfriend? Not a chance.”

I groaned. “Oh, Carla, come on, don’t do this to me.”

She grinned wickedly. “I’ve always wanted to know your type. You never go for the usual guys we get in the store. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

I hung my head. “Please don’t say anything. I beg you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I won’t, relax.”

I nearly jumped as the bell jingled. Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow.”

I blushed and didn’t turn around just yet. “There, you’ve seen him, happy now?”

“Yes,” Carla continued. “No wonder you wanted to switch shifts. That is one literal tall drink of water.”

“Now you know why I’ve been so thirsty.”

“God, yes. Now go get some for the both of us.”

I stifled a laugh and grabbed his finished suit before walking around front to find Harry waiting for me at the counter, smiling warmly when he spotted me. I suddenly flashed on what I’d been imagining those lips of his doing early this morning and tried my best not to trip on my way over to him. He wore the same coat as before, but this time over a dark blue t-shirt and jeans. I briefly wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that I'd said blue looked good on him. 

“And so the Scarecrow returns to the Land of Oz,” I said, crossing my arms. “How’s tricks?”

“Fine, Dorothy,” Harry replied. “Where’s Toto?”

“He’s at the groomer, I’m afraid,” I said airily. “Looks like you’re just stuck with me.”

“However will I survive.”

I shook my head sadly. “If you only had a brain.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hardy-har, smartass. Give me the suit before I pull your pigtails, Dorothy.”

I handed it to him. He winked to show he was kidding and brushed by me as he headed for the dressing room. I headed to the back to grab measuring tape and found Carla practically beaming at me from where she’d been peeking around the corner.

“You harlot,” she giggled, poking me in the side. “He is so into you.”

“Shush,” I said. “And go home before you blow it.”

“Oh, I’m not the one in danger of blowing anything,” she said slyly.

“Shut it,” I hissed. “He’ll hear you.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “Please. Like he doesn’t know already. You’re subtle as a tank.”

“She’s right,” Harry said cheerfully from the dressing room booth. “Times Square is more subtle than you, I’m afraid.”

I glared at her and then called back, “Hey, no one asked the Peanut Gallery, alright?”

“Well, technically I am minding my own business given how you’re talking about me.”

“You’re going to get a swift kick in your ‘business’ if you don’t shut up and get changed, Stilts.”

Harry chuckled and then mercifully fell silent. I shoved Carla towards the door. “Go home before you make it worse, woman.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, grabbing her purse from under the front counter. She then gave me a severe look. “Don’t chicken out at the last second. Ask him out.”

I palmed my face. “Quit meddling and go home.”

Carla stuck her tongue out at me and then left the store. I tried to put her words out of my mind as I put some clothes away as I waited for him to finish changing. It was one thing to flirt shamelessly and something else to ask him out. Sure, I was in the middle of a drought, hence the wet dream, but it didn’t mean I should act on it.

I mean, it was just chemistry. It didn’t mean things would actually work out. I didn’t know anything other than the guy’s measurements, for God’s sake. It would be better to let this be a fun anecdote in my life than to cling to a passing fancy.

Right?

As if mocking me, the built-in speaker overhead switched to an old favorite of mine, “For Me (Formidable)” by Charles Aznavour. I found myself singing it under my breath as I straightened the suits along the wall. I’d worked here long enough to have memorized the French lyrics too, despite the learning curve of being a dumb American.

_“You are the one for me, for me, formi, formidable_

_You are my love, very, very, véri, véritable_

_Je voudrais pouvoir un jour enfin te le dire_

_Te l'écrire_

_Dans la langue de Shakespeare…”_

And I found myself surprised to hear a certain baritone voice join me for the second stanza of the song, a little rough around the edges, but still melodic. Harry leaned against the door jamb between the dressing room hallway and the store front, fully dressed in his suit, his dark lashes low over his brown eyes as he waited for my reaction.

Now, I am going to assume you’ve never seen a 6’9’’ man in a custom navy suit singing a love song to you in French before, but let me tell you. It’s _something else._

My heart rate exploded out of the roof. If I were a cartoon character, this would be the part where my eyes bugged out and my tongue unfurled on the floor like a red carpet. Naturally, even though Mr. Dresden had kindly pointed out that I was as subtle as a tank, I couldn’t let on that I found him insanely attractive. I just nodded to head back towards the dressing room and he followed me.

And yet…both of us were still singing the song.

I did my usual check of the suit’s fit at the shoulders, back, waist, and arms. Harry kept appropriately still as I worked. Every small touch felt like a little static pop, as if somehow the growing tension had its own charge. We’d only met three times, yet I felt in the way I stood near him and how his posture relaxed, the way both of us angled ourselves towards each other that we’d maybe stumbled onto something. It didn’t have a name. It didn’t have a category. It just…existed.

Perhaps it was fate that I was standing in front of him, fixing his collar, when the last line of the song played overhead.

_“How can I love you?”_

The final note of the song hit and I stepped away from him, clearing my throat. “Well, looks like you’re all ready to go for a night on the town, Mr. Dresden.”

He tucked his hands in his pockets, admiring his reflection. “Seems I am.”

Harry paused and cocked his head slightly, squinting. “There’s something missing, though.”

“Well, the ties are on sale right now if you want me to grab you one.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Not what I meant.”

I blinked. “What? You want a pocket square?”

“No,” he said, the smile widening and turning my knees into Jello. “I was thinking more along the lines of company for said night out on the town.”

_Oh._

I nibbled my lower lip. “Are you sure? I mean, that would mean getting to know me. We could just let sleeping dogs lie. Going out would shatter the illusion. I’d no longer be the flirty salesgirl and you wouldn’t be the mysterious stranger. We’d be real people.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, of course not.” I brushed my hair behind my ear nervously. “It’s just…I may not be as interesting as I seem.”

He touched my chin lightly and turned my face towards his, something soft and fond in his expression that made me warm all over. “I’m willing to bet you are. So what do you say?”

“I’d like to climb you like a tree,” I said seriously. “Of course I’ll go out with you.”

Harry laughed, blushing up a storm as he did. “Just as subtle as I expected.”

He started for the dressing room booth, casting a sly glance at me. “Now, can I trust you not to try and sneak a peek or what?”

“No need,” I sniffed. “I’ve already sized you up.”

“Well,” he drawled. “You didn’t take my in-seam, right?”

“No.”

His smile turned quite wicked. “Then I think we’ve still got some… _measuring_ to do.”

He slipped inside the booth without another word. I stood there, speechless for a few seconds.

Then I went and tucked a roll of measuring tape in my purse.

You know.

Just in case.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story is done. I think. I'll get back to you on if there's a bonus smut chapter. I have yet to decide.


End file.
